Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
White Azaleas in Magnolia GardensBeatrice Ravenel
Y
And iridescence; like the endless spawn
Of pale sea-jellies on a moonless night—
A milky way that glamours out of sight—
Something of sea and something of the sky.
Drawn from the earth as blossoming dreams are drawn,
Most strange are you in this, that dreams alight and fly,
But you dream on all your translucent day.
Of beauty, you are the stirred, subconscious place
Of flowers, you are the rathe and virgin mood
Of young azaleas.
Where heaped branches brood
Like bathers, water-girdled to the hips,
Like Undines, every blossom turns her face
Groping above the water, with her parted, winged, insatiable lips,
Each for her soul and its white mysteries.